


Open Arms

by colazitron



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-30
Updated: 2011-12-30
Packaged: 2017-11-27 04:37:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/658082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colazitron/pseuds/colazitron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas at Tomlinsons' didn't turn out the way anyone had hoped.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Open Arms

**Open Arms**

Louis didn’t know how long he’d been sitting here, staring at the nativity scene on his advent calendar. It was a gift from his grandma - like every year. Last year he’d brought it with him to the x-factor house and guarded it with claws and teeth from the other boys. Well, except Harry, who he’d let open a door every other day and even have the chocolate. As if summoned by the thought, Harry ducked down into the bunk next to him. He didn’t say anything for a while but then neither did Louis and at some point Harry seemed to have had enough of waiting.

“There’s not magically gonna be more chocolate in it if you stare at it long enough,” he joked lightly and Louis felt his cheeks move in a slight smile before it fell again.

“It’s the 23rd,” he said instead of an answer. They’d just finished their matinee show. Only the evening show and then he could go home for Christmas and his birthday. He’d get to see his mum, sisters and friends.

“That it is,” Harry agreed and obviously waited for him to go on. Louis sighed and licked his lips, putting the calendar down next to him. He wrung his hands together and couldn’t quite bring himself to look at Harry. Or anything really, for that matter.

“Am I a terrible person for not wanting to go home?” he asked, immediately feeling stupid and small and petty.

“No,” Harry said immediately, like the thought of Louis ever being a terrible person was just not fathomable. Louis remained unconvinced, but didn’t exactly know how to push on, so he was happy when Harry picked up the conversational thread again.

“Why don’t you want to go home?” he asked gently.

“I just had a call from my mum. My dad’s gonna be with us for Christmas Eve and Morning. Like, he’s not staying overnight cause he lives with his girlfriend now and all, but they’ll come over tomorrow evening and then he’ll come back in the morning and.... I mean, he’s my dad, of course I still love him, but... it’s just such bullshit, pretending like we’re still the same family we were last year.”

He had to swallow against a traitorous lump that formed in his throat and was glad that Harry didn’t interrupt, just let him breathe through it and waited for him to go on.

“I know they’re mostly doing it for the girls, but Lottie’s gonna be so mad all day. She’s still so angry at dad for leaving. Fliss is mostly okay with it, weirdly enough. I don’t know. She’s got some stoic gene or something none of us got. I have no idea what it’s gonna do to Daisy and Phoebe and... I’m meeting Hannah and Stan tomorrow for my birthday and I probably won’t be home until the evening so I won’t be there to play buffer, but I just... I don’t want to, you know? I’m so fed up with it. It’s not my responsibility. I’m not actually their dad, but...”

He cut himself off and wiped a broad palm over his face before heaving another sigh and going on.

“I can’t just, like, abandon them either.”

“Louis, you’re not abandoning them,” Harry cut in. “You’re the most amazing older brother ever. You’re there for them so much and tomorrow is not just Christmas Eve, it’s your birthday. It’s the one day you get in a year to take completely as your own. And before you say it, no, it’s not selfish of you. It’s like you said. It’s not your responsibility to make sure they’re fine. If Lottie needs to fight it out with your dad, maybe the best thing you can let her do is shout at him anyway. Go meet Stan and Hannah and enjoy your birthday. You can always appease your guilt issues on Christmas Day, yeah?”

Louis allowed his body to fall back onto the bed, almost banging his head into the wall, and let a smile tug at his lips at Harry’s quirked eyebrow.

“That was actually a little uplifting.”

“Here to help,” Harry grinned, scooting further onto the bunk bed, but remaining upright and smiling down at Louis. “I wish there was something I could actually do though. You know you can always call me, right?”

“What are you gonna do, all the way from Holmes Chapel?” Louis laughed. “And I’m not gonna call you on Christmas. You’ll be with your family too.”

“Yeah, but you’re part of my family, okay? So, anything you need, you call me. Promise?”

“You’re being ridiculous, Harry. I’m not sick or anything. It’s just Christmas.”

“Promise?” Harry repeated, holding out his pinkie finger almost like a threat. Louis snorted a laugh and in his head thanked Harry for being so ridiculous and making him feel instantly better.

“Alright, promise,” he acquiesced and hooked his pinkie with Harry’s.

“I’d better not find out about any drama, if you don’t call me...” Harry added sternly before pulling his hand back.

“Hey, have I ever broken a promise?” Louis asked, putting on an offended tone and swatting Harry’s thigh when he, in turn, pretended to think the question over. It didn’t take much for them to fall into squabbling and laughing and by the time the show came around, Louis had put the next day out of his head, throwing himself into the adrenaline rush that came with performing. By the time Harry’d made the audience sing “Happy Birthday, boo bear” and the rest of the show was over, it felt like the worries had been washed out of his system and replaced with an exhausted sort of happy anticipation for the next day. He really had missed his mum and sisters. And his friends, obviously. It was going to be good to be home for a while.

 

And it was. He’d had a lovely breakfast with all the most important women in his life and then spent the entire day out with Stan and Hannah, catching up on their lives and generally goofing around. He was immensely glad Hannah and he had actually managed to keep their promise of “friends forever” so far. They had always been a quick, scorching hot rush and not the slow, quiet burn he felt with- but never mind. He was glad he hadn’t lost her completely and the banter between them was as good as ever, if not better, now that neither of them felt any need to hold back. They were both aware that their friendship was a lot stronger than their infatuation had ever been and it knitted them closer together.

It seemed that all good things really did have to come to an end though and his ended the moment he stepped through the front door again.

“No one even wants you here!” he heard Lottie shout before she flew past him into her room, slamming the door shut behind her. Louis felt his mood plummet straight into sub-zero space and he didn’t even bother getting out of his shoes or jacket before he strode into the kitchen to where his parents were fighting. Again.

“Guys?” he asked, letting the annoyance shine through his voice.

“Not now, Louis,” his father automatically replied. Louis ignored him.

“Isn’t this why you got a divorce? So this wouldn’t have to happen again?”

“Louis, please,” his mother turned to him, shooting him an exhausted and angry look. In answer, Louis felt his own anger bubble up. He was exhausted too, it was Christmas, it was also his fucking birthday and his parents had nothing better to do than get into another petty squabble over god knew what.

“Fine. Have it your way,” he said, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender before turning on his heel, planning to go talk to Lottie about what was going on. In the hall however, he stumbled over Phoebe and Daisy, who were crouched on the stair case, sad and scared looks on their faces.

“Why are mummy and daddy fighting again?” Phoebe asked and looked so miserable that Louis had to take a moment to breathe before answering.

“I don’t know, sweetheart, I just came home, I’m sorry. Have they been fighting long?”

“A while,” she answered, shrugging her shoulders. “We were upstairs playing. We only heard when it got really loud.”

Louis winced and knelt down in front of his youngest sisters, pulling them into his arms and pressing a kiss to each of their heads.

“It’s gonna be fine,” he promised, just as his mother yelled something particularly nasty in the kitchen.

“It doesn’t sound fine...” Daisy mumbled petulantly.

“I know it doesn’t,” he sighed, before straightening up again. “I need to go talk to Lottie. Go back upstairs and play, alright? I’ll be there soon.”

They nodded their consent and glumly trudged back up the stairs. He watched them go and exhaled a long, drawn out breath, steeling himself.

“Don’t bother,” a voice cut in before he could even turn to Lottie’s room. Lottie herself was already leaning against her door, what looked to be an overnight bag in her hand.

“Where are you going?” he asked, brows furrowed. She shrugged and glared at him defiantly the way he’d seen her do hundreds of times at either of their parents.

“None of your business.”

“Um, it kind of is. It’s Christmas and-”

“Your birthday, yes. I know. Have a good day?” she challenged.

“I did, actually, until I came home.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t want to be here either. So I’m going to Emily’s.”

“Does she know that?” Louis asked, raising an eyebrow at her. She shifted on her feet.

“No. Her mum won’t let her have anyone over on Christmas, but if I just turn up and tell her-”

“Lottie,” he cut her off. “Find someone else. I’m not gonna make you stay here, really, I’m not. But please just go somewhere you know they’ll take you in. And tell me where.”

“You’re not dad,” she spat, if anything seeming angrier.

“Thank fuck I’m not. But someone still needs to know where you are and they’re not gonna listen,” he shrugged, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb, their parents still arguing loudly.

“Can’t you go to Nina’s?” he suggested, trying to appease her as she seemed on the verge of either a tantrum or a breakdown.

“She’s in Scotland visiting family.”

“Olivia?”

“... I don’t want to explain to Olivia,” she admitted, sounding small and very much her age. Without a second thought he strode forward and pulled her into a hug too. She wound her arms around his waist and pressed her face into his chest, allowing him to rest his chin on her head. For a few moments they just stood there like that, soaking in the comfort of a familiar presence.

“New jacket?” Lottie then mumbled.

“Yeah, birthday present from Harry,” Louis explained and just like that a light went on in his head. Harry. He needed some perspective and anyway, Harry’d promised...

“Hey, go upstairs to the twins. I need a moment, but I’ll be right there, okay? I’ll make this better.”

“You always say that,” Lottie grumbled.

“And I always do,” he insisted, kissing her hair and then pushing her off gently. She frowned at him but dropped her bag and took the stairs up two at a time. He sighed to himself again and wondered briefly where Felicity was as he fished his phone out of his pocket and dialled Harry’s number. It rang a few times before Harry’s cheery voice answered, music playing in the background.

“Hey, mate. Happy birthday again! You alright?”

“No, not really,” Louis decided to cut to the chase.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked, voice laced with concern and the background noise faded away as Louis assumed that he’d moved into a different room.

“I don’t know exactly. I just came home, mum and dad are shouting at each other, the twins are upset, Lottie’s furious and I haven’t even seen Fliss yet and I just don’t know what to do. I shouldn’t have left, I -”

“Okay, stop,” Harry cut him off. Louis took a shaky breath and clutched the phone tighter, like he could hold on to Harry like that.

“First, none of this is your fault. Second, come here.”

“What?”

“Take the girls and come here. I’m sure mum’ll be fine with it.”

“Harry, no, I couldn’t...”

“Hey, your sisters are my sisters and vice versa, right? We’re family. I want my family to have a nice Christmas. So, if you want, get your arses over here.”

Usually Louis wasn’t a fan of any plan that sounded like running. But he could faintly hear his mother cry and he knew there was no way in hell this Christmas was going to be anything but awkward and tense if they all stayed here. Maybe his parents needed this time to figure their own issues out as well. They’d chosen a crap time, but Louis knew he couldn’t really make them stop now either.

Also, spending Christmas with Harry didn’t really seem like the worst idea.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Absolutely. 100 percent. You’re always welcome here.”

“Okay, then,” Louis answered, a rush almost like excited relief flooding him. “I just need to get the girls together so I’ll be there in about two hours. Two and a half tops.”

“Drive safe, Louis, not fast.”

“Yes, mum,” Louis grinned. “See you in a bit. And thank you.”

“No problem. Now get to it.”

Louis laughed another “okay, bye” and then hung up. He grabbed Lottie’s bag from the floor and ran up the stairs into the twins’ room, where all four of his sisters had congregated, sitting around glumly and waiting for him.

“Alright,” he announced, drawing their attention. “Mum and dad are fighting and maybe that’s a good thing, who knows. I don’t like it either, but I can’t make them stop. However, they’re being a bit Grinch on all our Christmases.”

Daisy giggled at this and Lottie rolled his eyes, feeling way too grown-up to let him treat her like a kid.

“I talked to Harry and he invited us all over. So, if you want, we can all go have Christmas Eve and Morning with Harry and his family.”

Daisy and Phoebe cheered immediately, Harry being their second favourite only after Niall and Fliss nodded like she thought it was a good idea, but wasn’t too fazed by the drama in the Tomlinson house either. Lottie chewed on her lip a bit, looking reluctant.

“You don’t have to come with us. Ring one of your friends if you want, but I think it’d be lovely if you came too,” Louis addressed her quietly. She rolled her eyes and sighed.

“Fine,” she agreed, like she was doing it for him and he smiled and winked at her.

“Can you get the twins dressed and packed? I need to get a few things,” he asked of her and watched her pull herself together a little more under the responsibility. He knew she didn’t like how she reverted from being the oldest to being one of the little ones whenever he came home and to be honest, he understood where she was coming from. Pushing the twins over to her, he made his way to his own room, pulling clothes from his still packed suitcase right into an overnight bag, the toiletries already packed. It didn’t take him long and he rushed down the stairs and out the front door quickly, but quietly, throwing the bag into the boot of his mum’s minivan. It wasn’t like he could drive four girls to Holmes Chapel in his Porsche.

When he re-entered the house, Phoebe was waiting for him at the top of the stairs.

“Louis...” she started out quietly and he ducked down to talk to her. “How is Santa gonna know where we are?”

The other three had all left the Santa idea behind, but two years ago, Phoebe had sworn she had heard footsteps and bells on the roof and secretly held on to believing. He found it adorable and didn’t have it in him to take that away from her, so he ruffled her hair instead.

“We’ll write him a note.”

“Do you think it’ll be very bad if he has to go to Harry’s with our presents?”

“No, I’m sure it’ll be fine. He has to stop by Harry’s anyway,” he assured her. She seemed pleased and rushed back into her room where the other three were still busy, which gave him the chance to grab the bag of presents he knew his mum kept in her closet and get that into the car unnoticed as well. When he came back inside, Lottie was making sure that the twins were bundled up enough, Fliss and she already dressed.

“Great,” he said. “I’ll bring your bags. Wait for me in the car, okay?”

Lottie nodded at him and took the keys from him gingerly, taking Daisy’s hand and watching Fliss take Phoebe’s before she led them outside. Louis shouldered the bags before stepping back into the kitchen, where his parents were still fighting, everything the girls and he had just done having gone completely over their heads. It was probably that more than anything that strengthened his resolve to go through with this. The girls deserved to be coddled on Christmas.

“I’m taking the girls to Anne’s to have a nice Christmas. Join us if you ever stop fighting,” he announced and didn’t wait for a reaction before turning on his heel and walking out the door. The girls were all already strapped in and he decided to ignore the figure of his mother rushing out of the house as he pulled out onto the dark street. Instead he fished his mobile out of his pocket and handed it to Lottie, who sat in the passenger seat.

“If mum calls, tell her what we’re doing and why. Try to be nice.”

Sure enough, it didn’t take long for Louis’ phone to ring.

“Hi, mum. Louis can’t talk right now, he’s driving,” Lottie said into the phone. She sounded smug, but not hostile. Small victories, Louis thought.

“We’re going to Anne’s because you and the sperm donor are being stupid and fighting and none of us asked to spend Christmas that way.”

“Lottie!” Louis admonished, but all she did was glare at him in response.

“No, I will not! ... I don’t care, okay? I’m sure Louis didn’t exactly want to come home to you fighting, or drive us to Anne’s on Christmas Eve, but I’m glad he does, ‘cause I don’t want to spend Christmas at home if all that’s gonna happen is fighting.”

“Lottie! I said be nice!” Louis reminded her sharply and glanced at the other girls via the rear view mirror. They’d gone from excited to quiet and Louis didn’t want them to see this as running from their fighting parents but rather as some sort of adventure.

“What? No! Don’t follow us, mum!” Lottie snapped and Louis heaved a sigh and pulled over, taking his phone from Lottie.

“Mum?”

“Louis! Concentrate on your driving!” she warned immediately and he couldn’t help the short grin. Once a mum...

“I’ve pulled over,” he explained, before going on. “Listen. I know this seems extreme to you, but there was no way we were going to have a normal or even happy Christmas with you and dad fighting. Please. Just... if you follow me now there’ll just be more fighting. Give us time to cool off. Take time to cool off yourself. You can always come join us tomorrow. I’ve left the keys to the Porsche in your purse.”

Louis was surprised his mum even let him get that far, but she stayed quiet a long while after he’d finished talking.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered eventually, sounding tired and close to tears. Louis screwed his eyes shut and bit his lip, glad only Lottie could see the expression on his face.

“I know you are, mum. It’s not ideal, but let’s make the best of it, yeah? I’ll shoot you a text when we get there.”

“I love you,” she said, sounding choked and for a brief moment he hated himself for breaking her heart this way.

“We love you, too,” he assured her, because he couldn’t bear the thought that she’d ever assume differently.

“Drive safe,” she pleaded resignedly.

“I will. Bye,” he said and lowered the phone, ending the call before inhaling a deep breath and holding it for a while before exhaling again. Then he handed to phone back to Lottie with a tired smile. She had the decency to look a little guilty, but mostly still as defiant as expected from a teenager. To be honest, in a really strange round-about way he was glad she was acting out. At least that meant she still felt like it was okay for her to do that, so in some way she must’ve still felt normal. That was really all he wanted for his girls.

“If Harry or Anne call, pick up. Otherwise ignore it,” he instructed putting his hands back on the wheel and shot his sisters in the back seat a short smile before pulling back out onto the deserted road and continuing their journey. After about ten minutes of silence, Fliss asked for the radio to be turned on and from then on for the next two hours, they spent their time singing along and chatting happily. Lottie left the storm clouds behind somewhere on the A628 and let herself be sucked in by her sisters’ excitement. By the time they passed the exits for Manchester Airport, they were all high-spirited again and even Louis’ lips curled in a satisfied little smile.

Neither Anne nor Harry had called or texted during their remaining drive and maybe it was that which left Louis a little apprehensive as he pulled up into the drive in front of the Styles home. He had to try a few times to get his mum’s minivan up onto the drive fully behind Anne’s and Gemma’s cars and completely blocked them in, but figured they could just ask him to move out of the way if they needed to go somewhere.

“Here we are,” he announced unnecessarily, pulling the hand brake tight and the key out of the ignition, shutting the lights off. None of the girls made a move to get out and Louis couldn’t resist twisting to grin at all of them in turn.

“Say, are you suddenly shy, girls? I thought Tomlinson girls were never scared?” he teased and that sprung them all into action, scrabbling to get out the car. Lottie made for the boot, but Louis waved her off, not wanting to risk the little ones seeing the big canvas bags full of presents he had hidden beneath all their overnight bags.

“No, no, I’ll do that later. Let’s just get you inside first. I bet you’re hungry, aren’t you?” Louis addressed Phoebe specifically with the last part, scooping her up in his arms and twirling her around once, before setting the giggling girl back down. Predictably, Daisy piped up with a “me too, me too!” and he had to give her the same twirling treatment. When he focused on the house again, he saw that the front door was open and light was spilling out onto the porch, Anne standing outside and waiting for them.

“Hi, girls!” she greeted them jovially and even though none of the girls had ever been here, they knew Anne well enough to let her usher them inside happily. Gemma came to greet them in the foyer, helping the twins out of all their winter clothes and taking them from them to hang up on the coats. Hellos were exchanged happily between all of them and Louis wanted to kiss both women for acting like them showing up on Christmas Eve was a perfectly normal occurrence.

“Harry and I pulled all the guest mattresses into Harry’s room, so Felicity, Daisy and Phoebe, you can have a sleepover there. Lottie, you can either join them or share with me, if you want,” she invited and Lottie shot her a grateful look that immediately communicated that she’d gladly take her up on the offer. Louis knew she’d come to see Gemma as somewhat of an older sister and maybe she could discuss tonight’s events with her better than she could with Louis, as Gemma was an uninvolved spectator. Well, mostly uninvolved.

“Louis, you and Harry are going to have to share the sofa,” Gemma turned to him and Louis sent her a smile.

“I’m sure we’ll be fine,” he assured her. It wasn’t like he hadn’t slept on way worse than a sofa.

“So, where’s Harry?” Daisy piped up, looking up at Gemma expectantly and it was in the quiet after the ruckus of entering the house that Louis noticed Harry hadn’t come to greet them at the door. He had expected Harry to pull him aside and make sure he was alright the moment he walked in and had to admit that he was somewhat disappointed that it hadn’t happened like that. To his surprise she snorted with laughter shortly in the sudden silence and before she could even open her mouth to answer the girl, Harry’s voice rang through the house, a fake offended, “I heard that!”

“He’s in the kitchen,” she grinned, obviously trying to keep giggles at bay and Louis shot her a confused look, feeling intrigue grow. What could Harry possibly be doing in the kitchen that amused his sister so immensely? The twins looked just as curious as he felt, but stayed rooted to the spot and it took him a moment to realise that this was because they didn’t know where the kitchen was and they didn’t dare storm into the house just like that.

“Come on, then,” he said, taking one of their hands each, “let’s see what Harry’s up to.”

He led them into the kitchen, where Harry was what looked to be elbows deep in a mixing bowl, scraping out dark brown dough into a small cake pan. He looked up when he heard them enter and grinned at them.

“Hi, girls!” he said and shot Louis a cheeky wink that immediately released some sort of knot inside his chest.

“I just need to put this in the oven real quick and then I’ll be with you, yeah? I think my mum and Gemma could maybe use your help setting the table, though.” Daisy and Phoebe ran to wrap their arms around his waist shortly, before racing back out the kitchen, their shyness of exploring the house gone. With the girls gone, Harry’s eyes flitted to Louis and his gaze went soft, like he was about to say something incredibly sappy. Louis felt his throat burn and his eyes sting and he couldn’t break down now. Not yet, with the girls in ear shot and potentially bounding in any moment, so he cut Harry off before he’d even opened his mouth.

“So, what are you baking?” he asked, sauntering over to Harry and leaning against the counter next to him.

“Um,” Harry started, something that seemed suspiciously like a blush creeping up on his cheeks. Louis raised an intrigued eyebrow at him, unable to think of anything that could have Harry blushing now. Louis had never really taken the mickey out of him for baking – he found it far too adorable, if he was being quite honest and about this he always was. So why would Harry be embarrassed about something specific he was making?

“Birthday cake?” he then mumbled, the words coming out more like a question than an explanation.

“Birthday...?” Louis repeated, the second word getting stuck in his throat. The burn in his throat came back with a vengeance and he managed to croak out a small, “for me?”, his own cheeks heating up.

“Of course for you, you doofus. I’m not in the habit of baking for Jesus,” Harry rolled his eyes, seemingly over his embarrassment, now that Louis had caught a case of it. It startled a laugh out of Louis and at the same time he felt a tiny tear slip past his eyelids and he reached up to wipe it away quickly, pressing his lips against each other. Harry’s eyes took on the size of saucer when he realised what was going on.

“Don’t cry!” he begged. “It’s just a tiny one, look. I just made the best of what we had lying around, I just thought... you know, it’s your birthday and it’s kinda been crap and...”

“You’re such a sap,” Louis cut in, shaking his head at Harry and himself in equal parts.

“Yeah, well...” Harry shrugged, because Louis had said that exact thing to him again and again. They stayed silent for a while, Louis watching Harry scratch the rest of the batter out of the mixing bowl into the greased pan, his fingers and even one wrist stained with what seemed to be chocolate dough. It smelled a little funny, like something about it was off or not the smell of chocolate cake Louis was used to, but he trusted Harry not to poison him.

“Want a taste?” Harry asked as he set the bowl down and Louis nodded and shrugged at the same time.

“Sure,” he answered, expecting Harry to hand him the spoon or at least the bowl. Instead he reached out lightning quick and smeared what was on his fingers over Louis’ lips and part of his chin and cheeks, giggling to himself. Louis gave a startled laugh, before shooting Harry a look and then reaching up to wipe the dough off his face while licking his lips. The taste spread pleasantly in his mouth and he hummed appreciatively.

“This is good,” he assessed and watched Harry’s lips stretch into a grin around his own fingers that he was licking clean. The picture he made was decidedly dirty and even though Louis had mostly gotten used to the random flashes of images Harry could coax to life in his head, sometimes they hit him out of the blue – like just now – and he had to look away and count backwards from ten to get his wits back about him.

“Help me get the girls’ bags inside when you’re done?” Louis asked, even though he was perfectly capable of getting them inside himself.

“Sure,” Harry agreed easily and pushed the cake pan inside the oven, setting the alarm on it. He set the bowl in the sink and soaked it, washing his hands at the same time. He dried them off before turning to Louis and following him out into the foyer, slipping on his shoes and stepping outside into the late evening.

“Fuck, it’s cold,” he assessed, pulling down the sleeves of his jumper from where he’d pushed them up while baking and earning himself a laugh from Louis, who had been wearing the jacket Harry had given him all day and was in fact still wearing it.

“That’s December nights for ya,” he teased and danced out of the way of Harry’s hand trying to swat at him.

“Smartarse,” Harry grumbled good-naturedly and took the bags Louis handed him when they reached the boot of the car.

“What about those?” Harry asked, indicating the bags with the presents. Louis shook his head and sent him a smile, slamming the boot shut again.

“Nope, those are the presents. They go under your tree once the girls are asleep,” he explained. Harry stared at him for a moment and then shook his head with a fond smile.

“You’re the best brother ever.”

“I try,” Louis answered haughtily, but felt his cheeks heat up from the compliment. He really did try to be as good as he could to his sisters.

“Are you alright?” Harry then asked, after a brief pause. Louis shot him a short look before shrugging.

“Not really, to be honest. I mean, not that I don’t love you and Anne and Gemma, but this really isn’t how I imagined Christmas. Just a couple hours ago I was having a laugh with Hannah and Stan and now ...”

“Now you’re halfway across the country and looking at a night on a sofa instead of your own bed,” Harry helpfully supplied. “I get it. I mean, I don’t, but... you know.”

“Yeah. Thanks,” Louis said, nodding his head. Harry pushed the door to the house they hadn’t entirely closed open and stepped inside. A wave of warmth washed over Louis the moment he followed him inside and he let it wash over him and decided to let go of all these thoughts for the moment and just enjoy the evening. Harry and he got out of their shoes and Louis hung his coat up, winking at Harry when he recognised it. They left the overnight bags in the foyer for now and followed the girls’ voices into the dining room, where Louis’ sisters and Anne and Gemma already sat at a set table, a huge pot of something with steam curling out in the middle of it. They sat down at the two places left for them at the one end of the table and no five seconds later animated chatter had broken out.

 

About two hours later saw the three younger girls all tucked in and at least half asleep in Harry’s room, Lottie having gone up to Gemma’s room with her and Anne retired to her own bedroom. She’d assured Louis that she had called Jay to let her know they were safe the moment they’d arrived and Louis had thanked her profusely, having completely forgotten about the text he’d promised her. Harry and Louis had just retrieved the bags of presents from the car and arranged them underneath the tree (Phoebe and Louis had secretly left Santa a little note in one of the windows) and pulled out the couch, stretching a sheet over it and throwing the last of the Styles family’s blankets and pillows onto it. Louis quickly changed into his pyjamas, while Harry hurried into the kitchen.

“Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

When Harry did return, Louis was huddled underneath one of the blankets, looking for warmth. Harry was carrying two plates with a piece of chocolate cake and what seemed to be a generous dollop of cream each and sat down next to him.

“Happy Birthday,” he announced with a smile and handed Louis one of the plates. “It’s red wine chocolate cake with vanilla cream.”

“That sounds fancy,” Louis mumbled, remembering Harry’s earlier statement of having only used things “lying around”.

“It’s not, really. Or, not difficult to make, anyway,” Harry assured him and since Louis had no clue, he was going to have to take his word for it. He automatically accepted the plate that Harry handed him and stared at the slice of cake, a bit lost. Harry sat down next to him, wiggling his feet underneath the blanket, but warm enough in his jogging pants and sweatshirt right now to leave it at that. Louis was aware that Harry was looking at him, but somehow it didn’t really make it to the forefront of his mind. Instead he watched his hands lower the plate onto his legs and felt mortified when his shoulders began to shake.

“Louis?” Harry questioned quietly and when Louis only shook his head in answer, he leaned to set his plate down on the coffee table before gently taking Louis’ plate from him and doing the same with that. Louis watched his fingers ball into fists in his lap and felt the hot burn in his throat and eyes and when Harry shuffled closer and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, he couldn’t stop himself anymore and felt a few tears roll down his cheeks and drop down onto the blanket.

“Oh, Louis,” Harry breathed, sympathy and a measure of helplessness that made guilt twist in Louis’ stomach heavy in his voice as he pulled Louis closer. Nothing was said between them while Harry wrapped his second arm around Louis and held him close, rocking him gently. At first, Louis tried to resist the comfort of Harry’s embrace, too stubborn and embarrassed to give in, but eventually, he unclenched his fists and snuck his arms around Harry’s back, burrowing into his broad chest deeper and letting the tears fall freely, with the occasional snuffle.

“It just,” he interrupted himself with a hiccough, “really sucks, you know?”

Harry made a vague noise meant to agree and urge Louis to go on.

“I just wanted a nice, quiet Christmas and I know it’s selfish to be mad at them when...” Another sniffle. “When they have their own shit to deal with, but... why would she even invite him when they can’t be civil?”

“I don’t know, Lou. She probably thought they could.”

“Well, she was obviously wrong,” Louis spat bitterly, curling into Harry, but turning his face so it wasn’t squashed up against Harry’s chest anymore, making breathing and talking easier. “I told her not to, when she called to ask my opinion on inviting him. I told her it was going to be a disaster and pretending like we’re all still a happy family when we’re not was fucked up anyway.”

“I’m sure she just tried to make you all happy,” Harry reasoned.

“Worked out well. I mean, I want my family too, but dad chose to leave. He doesn’t want to be a part of it anymore, so why pull him back in? Why not focus on people who actually want to be a part of our lives.” _Like you_ , he almost added, but swallowed it. Harry put his chin on top of Louis’ head and seemed to gather his thoughts for a moment before speaking.

“I’m not saying don’t be mad at her, but... I’m pretty sure she feels like crap right now, y’know?”

Louis made a non-commital grunting noise and Harry decided not to push further. In his experience it was best to let Louis come out with the things he was thinking in his own time.

“You baked me a cake,” Louis mumbled. Harry felt his brows furrow, not understanding what that had anything to do with anything.

“I did,” he agreed. Louis sniffled again and stayed quiet for a couple moments, before speaking up again.

“I just... why couldn’t they put us first this one time? Why couldn’t they just pretend to get along for my birthday and Christmas?”

“I don’t know,” Harry answered and ran a hand through Louis’ hair. Louis sighed at the contact and lifted one hand to scrub the wetness of his remaining tears off his cheeks.

“It’s not that I don’t love my sisters or that I’m not thankful that we can be here, but when I came home, all I wanted was a nice evening. Not having to practically kidnap the girls to drive them two hours across the country, just so they could have a good Christmas. It shouldn’t be my responsibility to make sure they do.”

“No, it shouldn’t. But you did anyway, because you’re you. And you’re amazing. Don’t feel bad for wanting things for yourself sometimes, Louis. You’re absolutely entitled.”

“Thanks,” Louis mumbled, pulling back and sitting upright again, rolling his shoulders to work out the kinks in his back and neck. “I just needed to get that out.”

“Anytime,” Harry smiled at him in the dimmed light and Louis’s eyes danced over the shadows on his face and he felt his heart swell to what felt like the limits of his chest cavity.

“Still. You’re amazing too, you know?”

“Aw, thanks,” Harry replied, his smile stretching into a teasing grin. Louis felt his cheeks heat up.

“I mean it. I’m really glad I have you. I’ve never really had a you before.” It was a crap explanation, Louis knew, but from the way Harry’s smile shied down into something bashful and his hands were suddenly picking at the fabric of his sweatpants, he understood what Louis meant. What they had was just unlike anything else either of them had experienced before. There was a trust and an openness between them that Louis couldn’t explain but even if he had wanted to wouldn’t have been able to doubt for just a second either.

“I’ve never had a you either,” Harry answered after a stretched silence and the two boys peered at each other from behind their respective fringes curiously but each with a tiny measure of apprehension. They weren’t stupid. Of course they noticed that they flirted like newlyweds, it had just never seemed significant. It was just the way they communicated. It didn’t really mean anything other than _I love you – I love you too_. A sentiment perfectly normal between best friends. But they’d had the “so, are you into guys at all?” conversation. A couple times, actually, over the course of the last one and a half years. Usually with some liquid courage coursing through their veins, making the words tumble out of their mouths easily and sound ridiculous as they murmured them to each other on a hotel floor or Louis’ bed, or the grass in someone’s garden. And the awareness that neither of them – while not looking for that sort of attention from their own sex – were entirely averse to it ever happening, thrummed like a strange undercurrent to their interaction sometimes, when they became too aware of it.

Louis watched Harry’s tongue flick out and over his dried lips nervously and was reminded of earlier in the evening when he had sucked the cake batter off his fingers so – subconsciously? – dirtily. He gulped and his gaze flitted to the side, before coming back to Harry more shyly than before. Harry chewed on his bottom lip, seemingly mulling something over in his head and when he fixed Louis with his eyes and opened his mouth, Louis thought he could feel his heart try and jump out his throat. But then Harry dropped his gaze and made a vague gesture towards the coffee table instead.

“Cake?” he asked weakly and Louis nodded dumbly, a sick feeling of disappointment rushing through his veins. He didn’t even know what he had expected Harry to do or say. They’d never hinted that their relationship could be anything other than friendship and that was what both of them wanted, wasn’t it? Sure, there was... potential between them, but that didn’t mean they had to go there, right? Right. Yet when Harry leaned to the side and his hoodie stretched to accommodate the movement of his arm to grab one of the plates, Louis found himself wishing it were smaller, so it would ride up and allow him a glimpse of Harry’s milky skin. He tried to rein the thoughts back in before Harry turned back, but there must’ve still been a bit of the deer-in-headlights look on his face, judging from the mini frown Harry shot his way for a second or two.

Louis was about to turn away to reach for the second plate, shamefully glad for the excuse not to look at Harry, when a fork with a piece of cake and a bit of cream on it was brandished in his face by the very boy he had been looking to avoid. Harry didn’t say anything, but it was clear what he wanted and Louis swallowed out of reflex and leaned forward. As soon as he closed his lips around the cake and pulled it off, starting to chew and letting the mixture hit his tongue, a surprised and pleased moan tore from his throat. Harry’s lips twitched in something almost a smirk, his eyes twinkling and Louis was sure, if they could, his ears would’ve perked up.

“Good?” Harry asked unnecessarily and Louis nodded almost dazedly while pushing the gooey mass around his mouth, trying to savour it. The chocolate flavour almost overrode everything else, but only almost. Harry had either used really rich, dark chocolate or cocoa powder. The red wine hadn’t baked out entirely and clung to the chocolate like an afterthought. The whole thing might have been almost overwhelming, if not for the lightness of the vanilla cream.

“Unbelievable,” he assessed, once he had swallowed and licked his lips. “Haz, this is fucking delicious.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Harry smiled, a tentative aura of pride about him as he offered Louis another piece. Louis accepted gladly and let his eyes slide shut, his shoulders sagging as he hummed in pleasure. All other chocolate cakes could just go home. He was going to have to find a way to make Harry bake this forever.

“It’s like sex for my mouth,” Louis said without thinking and when he heard Harry make a noise somewhere between a choke, a cough and a snort, his brain caught up with him and his eyes flew open, immediately locking with Harry’s. The only consolation was that Harry’s cheeks looked as flushed as Louis’ felt. Harry had the fork hover over the cake, poised to break off another piece, but seemed frozen in his movements, his entire attention focussed on Louis. Louis licked his lips, out of nervousness and the growing aggravation of having crumbs stick to them. Harry tracked the movement of his tongue, but his eyes sprang back up to guiltily look into Louis’, the moment he realised what he was doing. As if in answer, Louis’ eyes darted down to Harry’s lips for a brief moment. He blinked and looked up into Harry’s eyes again and next thing he knew, he was close enough to feel Harry’s stuttering breath wash over his own mouth.

He barely had time to register the voice in his head that was frantically screaming at him, demanding to know what it was he was doing, because he leaned further still and let his lips settle over Harry’s. His eyes fluttered shut and the faint taste of chocolate left in his mouth coupled with the softness of Harry’s lips was just about the loveliest thing he’d felt in a while. The voice in his head gave a faint “oh” and then shut up. It was all the permission Louis needed to softly move his lips over Harry’s, their skin clinging together a bit as he pulled away, only to move back in and press against Harry’s mouth again. By the third time he did it, Harry seemed to pull out of his shock and reciprocated the pressure ever so lightly.

The fork hit the plate with a soft clang as Harry set it down and then strained to place it back on the table without separating from Louis. He managed, but only barely, if the loud clatter was any indication. They both froze for a moment, waiting for someone to notice and come in, berating them for being noisy, but nothing happened. Louis huffed a relieved sigh and nudged Harry’s lips with his own.

Their kiss grew slowly. Brief and tentative pecks transformed into longer and more confident touches. Louis madly found himself thinking of Sleeping Beauty and being kissed awake after a hundred years of enchanted slumber. He wasn’t entirely sure about the role distribution, as he felt as if he’d been walking through rose bushes just to wake up, but then Harry opened his lips on a delicious, tiny sigh and there were more important things to do than think about fairytale analogies.

Louis planted his hands either side of Harry’s hips and pushed into him more forcefully, Harry giving way like he always did. He leaned back and Louis leaned over him, until Harry’s head came to rest on the sheet-covered sofa and Louis hovered above him. They still weren’t touching anywhere except their damp, connected lips. It was Harry who finally lifted a hand, the back of his fingers grazing up Louis’ torso as if by accident, before he pushed the long digits inside the collar of Louis’ t-shirt, letting his hand rest over the curve of Louis’ collar bones and shoulder. Louis reciprocated by putting his weight onto one arm and cupping the side of Harry’s face with the other, smoothing his thumb over Harry’s cheekbone. Harry mewled into the kiss and pawed at Louis’s shoulder, his fingertips and briefly his short nails dragging over his skin. The pressure of his mouth became more insistent and Louis followed his lead, opening his mouth to Harry’s tongue when it pushed against it.

Heat flared up between them instantly, the sliding together of their tongues becoming more messy and less about any sort of finesse than just pure contact. Harry’s second arm wound around Louis’ neck, pulling him down on top of him, while Louis gave up on holding himself above Harry and instead wrapped his arm around Harry’s waist, between him and the sofa. Their legs tangled together and if it weren’t for the eventual lack of oxygen, Louis would’ve been content to stay just like that for the next 100 years.

They had to come up for air at some point, even though Louis only drew tiny breaths in between hurried pecks pressed to Harry’s mouth like he was afraid this was the only time he’d ever get to do it. Maybe a part of him was. Harry slowed the kisses by lifting his hand from around Louis’ neck and carding gentle fingers through his hair. Louis eventually slid off Harry, coming to lie next to him, with his head pillowed on Harry’s shoulder, Harry’s hand still in his hair, while his own fingers played with the string of Harry’s hood.

“You’re not allowed to make that cake for anyone else, ever,” Louis decided. He had meant it to be a joke, to lighten the mood, but it came out like the possessive whisper it felt and he instantly closed his eyes against it. But instead of protest, Harry only chuckled lightly and kissed Louis’ forehead.

“Okay,” he said. “The cake’s yours.”

“Really mine?” Louis asked over the steady drumbeat of his heart.

“Completely,” Harry promised, with much more earnestness than cake called for. Louis couldn’t help pushing up onto his elbow to look down at him for a moment.

“Good. I kind of love that cake.”

A smile and a blush spread out equally over Harry’s face and Louis could only marvel at how perfect he managed to look. He ducked down for another sweet kiss, shortly interrupted by Harry pulling away to whisper, “You too”, sending his heart racing again. This entire thing felt suspended in mid-air, a strange non-sequitur and yet... it had been a really long time coming, Louis realised as his mind rushed back through all their time together, all the flirting and covert looks, right to the very beginning when he had cheekily asked Harry for a picture with him in the loo of all places. Harry’s delighted laugh hadn’t changed a bit over the last year and a half, only Louis had grown to know all the private nuances in it. Or so he’d think until he found a new one.

They lay cuddled up in silence for a while, until the clock in Harry’s mum’s book shelf chimed twelve.

“Merry Christmas,” Harry whispered and earned himself a throaty, but quiet laugh.

“Merry Christmas,” Louis whispered back.

The next morning would bring his excited sisters bounding down the stairs with Gemma, who’d insist that they could all choose a present each and open it upstairs, but to let their brothers sleep as they were probably tired. Around noon, Jay would call and ask to join them and when she did a few hours later, her girls would be chattering happily and she would have to excuse herself for a moment to shed a few tears, hugging her son close. Everyone would notice that Louis and Harry seemed different, but no one would say a word, the unanimous decision having been silently made that this day should be nothing but happiness. And anyway, when Louis would lean over during dinner just to kiss Harry’s smile off his face, things would be made abundantly clear.

**The End**

**Author's Note:**

> red wine chocolate muffins (12 muffins or one 18 cm/7" diameter cake tin) (from Stina Spiegelberg's Veganpassion)
> 
> 150g/1.2 cups flour  
> 80g/0.6 cups hazelnut meal  
> 100g/0.8 cups sugar  
> 2 table spoons cocoa powder  
> 1 table spoon soy flour or arrow root starch  
> 1 tea spoon baking powder  
> vanilla  
> 50 ml/0.2 cups oil (canola works best)  
> 150/0.6 cups ml red wine  
> 70 ml/0.3 cups sparkling water (NON SWEETENED)  
> 40g/0.18 cups of butter
> 
> STEP 1: mix all the dry ingredients in a bowl  
> STEP 2: add the oil, water and red wine and whisk until smooth  
> STEP 3: melt buter and add  
> STEP 4: pour in muffin thingies or cake pan (if you're using a cake pan, grease it first or line it with baking parchment)  
> STEP 5: bake for 30 minutes at 160°C/320°F (for cake, bake longer - roughly 40 minutes). Stick a barbecue stick thingy or a toothpick (depending on size of the baked good) in it to check if it's done. (If it comes out clean, it should be all done.)
> 
> ENJOY
> 
> (This recipe is vegan. For non vegans: for the vanilla cream, use part cream cheese, part whipped cream and vanilla. For vegans: ... I'll get back to you on that. Grab your favourite cream substitute in the meantime.)
> 
> For the one that actually inspired this fic, use [this one from smitten kitchen](http://smittenkitchen.com/blog/2011/09/red-wine-chocolate-cake/).


End file.
